


Warmth

by TableForThree_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Time, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-04
Updated: 2005-05-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 11:56:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4745444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TableForThree_Archivist/pseuds/TableForThree_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione learns something about Harry and Ron--and herself.</p><p>By angel423</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Jonathan Andrew Sheen, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Table for Three](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Table_for_Three). When traffic and uploads slowed to a trickle, it became difficult to justify the hosting expenses. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in January 2015. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Table for Three collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/triofic/profile).

The first night of the winter holiday, Hogwarts was hit by a winter storm. The entire castle was frigid despite extensive warming charms and the wind wailed through cracks in the stone walls. Alone in the girls' dorm, Hermione listened to the wind as she tried in vain to get warm beneath her thick blankets. Finally giving up on sleep, she gathered the blankets around her and headed off towards the boys' dorm to see whether Harry and Ron were still awake. They were the only three left in the school from seventh year, most of the other students having gone home to be with their families in the face of the coming war. Dumbledore and the Order had requested that Harry stay at the school and Ron and Hermione had, of course, opted to stay behind as well. Mrs. Weasley has been less than thrilled with Ron's decision, but he remained firm. As for Hermione's parents, they knew nothing of the war (due to Hermione's not telling them about it) and were having a second honeymoon in Australia for the holiday.  
  
When she arrived at the landing to the dorm, Hermione noted that there were still light showing from underneath the door and knocked lightly. Not receiving a reply, she pushed the door open and entered the empty room. There was a candle lit between Ron and Harry's bed, but it appeared that only Ron's bed had been slept in at all that day, the sheets rumpled and half hanging off the bed. Shivering, she pulled her blankets closer and walked toward the door that she knew led to the loo. The door was slightly ajar and she could hear the sound of a shower running. Perplexed as to why Ron and Harry would be showering at such an hour, Hermione ignored her conscience and peered in, praying that neither of them were naked. What she saw made her wish that they had _only_ been naked.  
  
Harry had Ron against one of the tiled walls, the spray tilted so that it fell over both of them. He had Ron's wrists above his head in one hand while his other hand was wrapped around Ron's cock, sliding up and down its length slowly. Hermione coloured brilliantly, stopping herself from gasping loudly. Her blankets slid, forgotten, around her ankles. She knew she should leave; this was obviously not something they would want her to see or know about, but most of her was too focused on the way the muscles in Harry's back were moving under his wet skin and the incoherent noises that Ron was making in the back of his throat as Harry kissed him deeply. She drank in the long expanses of freckled whiteness as they moved against Harry's slightly darker skin, following a water droplet as it slipped slowly down Ron's torso into the thick red curls above Ron's cock. She whimpered softly as Harry trailed kisses across Ron's chest, lowering himself slowly to his knees. Ron twined his now free hands in Harry's thick black hair as Harry took Ron into his mouth slowly, his tongue darting out to lick the head. Hermione watched mesmerized as Ron writhed, Harry's cheeks hollowing as he sucked and licked Ron's length. Her heart pounded loudly and her breathing quickened; she noticed the tight hold Harry had on Ron's narrow hips. Ron would have bruises the next morning, she thought idly as she worried her lip between her teeth, her fingers clenching and unclenching the hem of her nightgown.  
  
"Fuck, Harry!"  
  
Ron's orgasm brought Hermione out of her daze and her stomach clenched in panic as she realized what she had just witnessed. Grabbing her blankets, she ran back to her own room and buried herself in blankets behind the thick velvet hangings and shivered uncontrollably despite no longer being cold in the slightest.  
  
Over the following days, Hermione spent as much time in the library as Ron and Harry would allow. During the times where they absolutely forbid her leaving them, she avoided making eye contact. Every time she looked at them she would flash back to that night and the way they looked together. Back to the way the water had clung to Harry's long lashes, the way Ron's face looked, his head thrown back in pleasure. It made her uncomfortable, not because they thought of them being lovers was odd (even though it _was_ ), but because the thought made her stomach flip flop and her cheeks grow warm. She was confused and nervous and she always felt much too warm around them. Ice and frost clung to the windows of the castle, but she had taken to wearing just her uniform skirt and oxford shirt around the common room, sleeves rolled back and top buttons undone.  
  
When they would speak to her she would answer as quickly as possible, desperate for them not to hear how her voice would waver or crack. She would hide behind thick tomes, peering curiously over the tops to watch them play chess or exploding snap without them noticing. She noticed no outward difference in their behavior, nothing that would suggest that they were more than just best mates enjoying their holiday.  
  
And then it was Christmas and they forced her awake at an ungodly hour to watch them whoop and holler as they slowly buried themselves under shiny paper and ribbons. She opened her parcels delicately, folding the papers and giving whatever ribbon she had to Crookshanks to play with, even though he showed no interest in the obviously insufficient toy. She opened books and quills, sweets and jumpers- all very practical, normal gifts. Hermione was actually feeling a bit more at ease as she settled herself into an overstuffed armchair by the fire and began to peruse her new reading material when Ron gave an outstanding yell. Turning she saw that he was holding a thick packet of brightly orange tickets, the top embossed with the Chudley Cannons logo. Ron looked astonished, his mouth hanging open comically as he turned to Harry.  
  
"Harry, tickets to every game this summer? Are you mad?! These must have cost a fortune!" A familiar look was beginning to settle itself in Ron's eyes, but before a row could begin Harry jumped up and placed a hand on Ron's arm.  
  
"Don't, mate. I wanted to, alright? Just enjoy them."  
  
"Al-alright. But at least let me take you as my guest to all of them."  
  
Harry looked sadly at the tickets, but tried to smile when he looked back up at Ron.  
  
"Afraid I can't, Ron; Dumbledore would never allow it. You know..." He trailed off uncertainly. Ron looked angry and resigned, his shoulders slumping a bit.  
  
"Yeah, I know. It's bloody bollocks though. I'll bring you back some wicked souvenirs, yeah?"  
  
Harry grinned. "Yeah, just nothing orange! Bloody awful colour."  
  
And with that they were back to throwing paper at each other and diving into their chocolate assortments. Hermione was stunned. Six months ago that would have been a week long row, each boy stubborn in their positions and she being forced to play mediator. It was then that she realized it was more than just sex in the showers. Excusing herself to take a nap, she rushed from the room angry at the hot tears that were threatening to fall.  
  
Hermione threw herself onto her bed. Her entire world had somehow gotten entirely mixed up. Harry and Ron were _together_. Not just that, but her body **liked** thinking of them together. She was embarrassed and confused beyond reason. Nothing made sense and she was positive that this problem did not have an answer to be found in any book she could find. She curled into herself and tried to nap, exhaustion taking over, but her mind wouldn't shut off. She kept imagining them, first in the shower and then that morning. She saw the way they looked at each other when they were around her; it appeared normal but if she looked closely enough she could now see the slight shift. The tiny upturn of the corners of lips whenever one would talk to the other. The touches that lingered just a bit too long. The Quidditch practises that lasted hours longer than they normally did.  
  
When she finally came back down to the common room later in the afternoon, Ron and Harry were lounging on the floor in front of the fire playing chess. They looked up as she entered and she flushed brilliantly at them both looking at her with such concern.  
  
"Alright, Hermione? Are you feeling ok? Do you need to go to Madam Pomfrey?" Ron's questions startled her. They thought she was ill. Although she knew that was probably a good thing considering the truth, she was still embarrassed to have been so obvious with her unease.  
  
"I'm fine, Ron, just a bit...a bit warm is all."  
  
They both looked at her confusedly, especially since they were both wearing thick woolen jumpers to keep out the freezing chill, but they didn't press the matter. Instead they herded her into the Great Hall for the feast and then back into the common room. She settled in for an evening with one of her new books and the boys talked Quidditch. Around eleven, Harry stood and stretched and declared himself tired. Hermione didn't miss the pointed look he shot at Ron before heading over to Hermione's chair and kissing the top of her head. Ron, cottoning on, stood as well and mimicked Harry's actions, each of them bidding her a good night before heading up the staircase.  
  
Now alone in the room, Hermione began to worry her lip between her teeth, unnerved. She knew what they must be doing. Thinking about it sent a shiver down her spine and the heat in her cheeks rose. She began to wonder if they were back in the showers or if they were doing something else. Had she only imagined the shared glances? Perhaps they were just continuing their discussion until they fell asleep? Inherently she knew that they weren't discussing Quidditch or anything else, but she used the uncertainty to decide that she would go and see. If they were only talking she could just say she had wanted to ask them if they wanted to take a walk around the grounds after breakfast or something equally mundane. If they weren't talking...well, she hadn't quite gotten that far but she knew that she had to find out.  
  
As she climbed the stairs, a sense of guilt started to set in. What Ron and Harry did together away from her was private; she had no right to be sneaking around after them. She had to finally admit to herself that she was not trying to catch them together because she was upset that they had kept it from her or because she disapproved but merely because, well, she liked watching it. She stopped on the landing, overcome. Hermione Granger was not supposed to be some hormonally controlled teenage witch. She didn't read Young Witch or hang posters of The Weird Sisters on her walls. Hermione Granger did not use nail varnish or make up and she most certainly did not spend her evenings in the dorms rating her male classmates on their snogging potential. And yet, here she stood, hoping to catch her two best friends snogging each other or possibly even more. She almost turned back, horrified at her realization. Almost, that is, until she heard a muffled moan from the room. Her stomach dropped at the sound, her throat going dry and her knees going a bit wobbly. She knew that she had to see.  
  
The door was mostly open, the one candle between their beds lit. Peering in, Hermione saw that Ron had Harry against his bed, his hands pulling at Harry's green jumper. Once Harry was divested of the garment, Ron moved his hands up Harry's chest. She watched as Ron's tongue darted out to lick one of Harry's nipples, causing Harry to make a choked noise. Harry's own hand moved from Ron's waist to rub the bulge at the front of Ron's trousers. They were beautiful together, she thought, as she watched them kiss and nibble each other. They fit against each other seamlessly and the way Ron whispered inaudible things into Harry's ear made Hermione moan with soft longing. Then Harry pulled Ron backwards onto the bed with him, blocking them from Hermione's view. Desperate to see them she pushed the door open a bit more with a trembling hand, the hinges letting out an angry squeal. She froze, horrified, as Ron and Harry shot up. For a moment they were frozen that way, staring at each other, Harry's hands still on Ron's fly. Finally, with a choked sob, Hermione turned and fled, only able to reach the common room before collapsing onto a sofa, trembling.  
  
She knew they would follow her. They found her sitting with her knees brought up to her chest, her face hidden from view. Seating themselves on either side of her, they didn't speak for a moment. Finally, Harry cleared his throat.  
  
"Er...Hermione? What you...what we were...it's...we're sorry, alright?"  
  
Surprised, her head flew up to look at them. "Sorry? Whatever for? I'm the peeping Tom spying on her best friends."  
  
Ron choked. "Spying? What are you on about, Hermione?"  
  
Once more she found herself flushing brilliantly. Her face felt as if it were on fire. She couldn't let them apologize, though, when she had been in the wrong the entire time. The entire situation was her fault from the start. In a small voice, stuttering a bit, she finally managed to confess quickly.  
  
"Well...er...I, uh...Ikindasawyoutheothernighttoo."  
  
Both boys looked shocked, Harry colouring and Ron's mouth dropping open.  
  
"You saw us before tonight and you didn't say anything? Why?"  
  
Lowering her head back to her knees, she shook it slightly. "I don't know!"  
  
"And then tonight you..."  
  
"Snuck up to look, yes. I am a horrible friend and a disgusting pervert, alright?!"  
  
There was a momentary pause and then both Ron and Harry began to laugh. Startled and a bit put off, Hermione lifted her head to glare at them.  
  
"It isn't funny! I am an awful person! Stop that!"  
  
Ron continued to chuckle, but Harry sobered a bit, a glint coming into his eyes.  
  
"We aren't laughing at you, Hermione. And you are in no way an awful person. While you shouldn't have been spying on us....well...," he grinned again, "Well, that's flattering, that is. Not to mention, quite the turn on."  
  
Ron nodded in agreement, his face flushing as well. Hermione was thoroughly puzzled.  
  
"You _like_ that I wanted to look? That's ridiculous."  
  
In response, Harry grabbed the front of Ron's jumper and kissed him across Hermione's lap. She was so close this time that she could see the way their tongues moved against one another, slowly and deliberately. Unable to control herself, she let out a small squeak. Pulling away, Ron and Harry looked at one another for a few seconds before they grinned at each other a bit deviously. Settling themselves back on either side of Hermione, Ron placed a hand on her hip, playing with the hem of her shirt. Harry brushed his lips against her cheek and settled a hand on her knee.  
  
"Touch yourself," he whispered against her ear, his breath making her shiver. Her breath hitched as his fingers trailed slowly up her thigh.  
  
"W- what?" Their proximity was making her dizzy. Ron began to undo her shirt buttons one at a time, stopping after each one to gently run a fingertip across the newly exposed skin.  
  
"Haven't you done it before? Wanted to, perhaps? Thinking of what you saw, of what we were doing to each other? We have both touched ourselves thinking of _you_ , Hermione, did you know?" Harry paused to suck gently on her earlobe. "We want you to touch yourself, Hermione. Go on; it's alright."  
  
Together they brought her skirt up to rest bunched at her hips, Harry bringing her hand down to the elastic of her knickers. Trembling, she let her hand slip over the moist cotton, letting out a choked moan when she hit a sensitive spot. Harry and Ron made soft noises of encouragement, Harry trailing gentle kisses along her jaw line. Ron had finally finished with the buttons on her shirt and brought his hand to rest against her stomach, the warmth from his skin searing her own. He slipped his hand up further to cup a breast through her bra, rubbing his thumb lightly over her stiff nipple. Hermione could feel their erections pressed against her and she couldn't help remembering how they had looked that night in the shower. Whimpering, she brought her hands up and tried to touch them.  
  
"Uh-uh. You are not following the rules, Miss Granger. Ten points from Gryffindor."  
  
Harry placed her hand back on her belly, sliding from the sofa to his knees. Hooking his fingers in the elastic, he slid her knickers off, kissing his way back up her leg. Ron had taken her other hand and kissed her palm so delicately she felt faint. Harry took the hand that was now resting on her stomach and brought it lower to her brown curls. He looked up at her, green eyes dark and reflective of the firelight.  
  
"Touch yourself."  
  
Nodding slightly, she gave in and let her fingers slide through her curls, over the slick flesh and that small nub. Her entire body tingled, her skin flushed with pleasure. She slid a finger into herself slowly and then another when Ron moaned encouragingly.  
  
"You're beautiful," he whispered, almost reverently. He kissed her then, slowly and thoroughly. Harry had moved back up to her side and was kissing her neck, nipping slightly where neck met shoulder. She was still touching herself, her small fingers delicately exploring, the fire in her belly building. Ron pulled back and then Harry was kissing her, more forcefully than Ron but with the same aura of veneration. His tongue slid against hers and she sighed happily against his mouth. They both tasted of ice mice, tea, and each other. Ron moved to still her hand, but she resisted, pulling away from the boys.  
  
"No," she said, her breathing heavy. "I want to watch you."  
  
"Watch us?" Harry asked, his puzzlement obvious. "Haven't you had your fill of that?"  
  
Hermione shook her head emphatically, bushy hair sticking to the back of her neck. She leaned back against the sofa and slid her hand back down her belly to her pelvis.  
  
"Please," she implored breathlessly.  
  
Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged, and he moved over to Ron's side of the sofa, pushing Ron backwards and kissing him greedily. Harry straddled Ron's lap and began pulling Ron's jumper over his head before moving to pull the thin t-shirt from his waistband. Ron gripped Harry's back firmly; Hermione could see the skin turning pink under the pressure. They were still kissing in between removing each other's clothing, Harry rolling his hips against Ron's, both of them moaning at the contact. Harry looked over at Hermione, watching them, her eyes dark with desire. She was touching herself again, the soft whimpering noises she was making almost inaudible. She looked amazing, Harry thought, so _undone_. Her skin was flushed, a light layer of sweat shining on her skin in the flickering firelight. Her back was against the arm of the sofa, one leg on the cushions, knee bent, her skirt still bunched around her waist and her shirt open and hanging off of her shoulders. One strap of her bra had slipped down her arm, her breasts straining against the cotton as she breathed. She looked almost wild, her perfectly straightened knee socks the only reminder of the normally prim and proper witch.  
  
Ron made an impatient noise and thrust his hips upwards, reminding Harry of the task at hand. Tearing his eyes away from Hermione, he leaned down to kiss Ron, biting gently at his bottom lip and he undid Ron's belt and flies. Sliding Ron's trousers off, Harry touched his now free erection with fingertips, enjoying the way Ron's cock jerked at the contact, his hips bucking. Hermione let out a moan from her side of the sofa and Ron's head turned to her, a grin forming on his face.  
  
"Why are we letting you sit all alone over there for, again?"  
  
Harry leaned over him and nuzzled his neck, nipping at his earlobe.  
  
"Because, Ron, Hermione would prefer to watch. She would rather we not ravish her in the common room and as gentlemen we must respect her wishes to remain on her side of the couch alone while we...ah...enjoy each other's company."  
  
He emphasized his statement by stroking Ron again and bringing Ron's hand up to his mouth, kissing the palm before slowly sucking on each finger. Ron's breath caught in his throat as he continued to hold Hermione's gaze. Her fingers had stilled again, her toes curling and uncurling beneath the grey material of her socks as she worried her lip between her teeth. Ron looked her over, his eyes taking in her disheveled clothing and her exposed skin. He answered Harry without moving his attention back to his friend who was currently trailing his lips across Ron's collarbone.  
  
"Maybe she doesn't know that, as a Weasley, I was brought up to share my toys."  
Harry murmured against Ron's skin, paying more attention to the smattering of freckles across his chest. Ron continued to talk, his voice hoarse and thick.  
  
"Or maybe Hermione doesn't know how we talk about her sometimes. How you told me you wonder what she tastes like or how I told you how perfect her breasts always look. Or.." His breath hitched as Harry's mouth replaced his hand around Ron's cock. "Or maybe she is scared."  
  
Harry paused, head whipping round to stare at Hermione, awaiting what he thought would be anger. Hermione's lips did begin to thin in a way creepily reminiscent of McGonagall when she was displeased, but before she could issue a retort Ron had unwound himself from Harry and crawled over to her, his hand sliding up and over her sock covered shin to rest on her knee as he settled himself between her legs. He continued talking as if he had never stopped, still aiming his comments at Harry.  
  
"I don't know, though, Harry. The Hermione we know doesn't get scared easily, usually, so why would she be scared now when there are two blokes who very desperately want to touch her...kiss her...watch her."  
  
He punctuated his pauses with close-mouthed kisses to her inner thigh, the hand not on her knee pushing her other leg out further, giving him easier access to her. She didn't respond, fixated on him and he leaned down to nuzzle her moist curls, tongue darting out to lap at her center. At this she finally reacted, sliding further down the sofa, her eyes fluttering shut. She moaned softly, giving in. Harry decided this counted as permission and slipped out of his trousers before settling in on the floor before them and pressing kisses to wherever he could reach on the two of them. He slid a hand down Ron's spine, reaching over to his trousers to grab his wand and quietly muttering a spell before continuing with his fingers, pressing gently against Ron before sliding in a finger. Ron moaned against Hermione, whose hips jerked in response and she threw her head back against the arm of the soft. Harry whispered another quick incantation and her bra disappeared, although she didn't seem to notice. Dropping his wand to the floor, Harry reached over with his free hand and cupped a breast, rubbing his thumb over a pink nipple, enjoying how she pressed against his touch. She wound a hand in Ron's ginger hair, her other hand reaching out for Harry. He took her hand and kissed her fingertips before twining their fingers together as he continued to move against Ron, inserting another finger and curling them up in search of that spot that made Ron scream. He knew he had found it when Ron arched his back and shuddered violently. Hermione gasped, too, her hips jerking twice more before she too arched against Ron and moaned loudly, all of her muscles visibly tensing.  
  
Ron licked and nuzzled for a few more seconds before pulling back and pressing a kiss to her knee. After catching her breath, Hermione opened her eyes and looked over the boys, her right eyebrow raised.  
  
"Alright, I proved I wasn't scared. What do I get in return?"  
  
Ron sputtered brilliantly while Harry just chuckled. Pulling Ron up to face him, he grinned at Hermione and leaned in to kiss Ron slowly, enjoying the taste of Hermione still thick on Ron's tongue. He spread Ron's knees and settled himself between them, pressing their cocks together, causing Ron to hiss, forgetting about Hermione's teasing. They moved against each other in a steady rhythm, intermittently kissing and touching. Hermione had pressed herself closely to them, reaching out to touch them as well, her small fingers dancing against backs and arms. It wasn't long before Ron cried out, coming against Harry's belly with Harry following soon after. For a long moment the three of them just lay sprawled on the couch, silent and sated. Ron reached over and pulled Hermione over between the two boys. They each set their heads on her shoulders, arms snaked around her waist. Ron chuckled.  
  
"I knew you were better at participating than observing."  
  
Harry snorted. Hermione tutted.  
  
"Perhaps, but I still like to watch. Leave me an oddity or two, Ronald."  
  
Harry curled around her a bit more.  
  
"Are you cold, Hermione?"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"Not in the slightest."


End file.
